


Vitya and the Crumbs of Love

by gabapple



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, NLA Canon, Nonbinary Character, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series, Princess Vitya, Puppy Love, Valentine's Day, Viktor is embarrassing, Young Victor Nikiforov, victor has a crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9716666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabapple/pseuds/gabapple
Summary: Viktor's always been a hopeless romantic, and the journey to Yuuri had a few bumps along the road. This is a brief look into one of them- a Valentine's Day for fifteen year-old Viktor in which he was determined to enjoy the holiday whether or not he got a text from his crush. One hundred paper rose Valentines delivered around Vaganova Academy and the skating rink ought to be enough to distract him from the heart ache, right?!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I get a bit of a mean streak where I have to write/draw fluffy stuff involving ships that definitely don't end well, but portray them all happy and cute. This is one of those times. It makes me hate myself a lot. OH WELL. :) Fifteen year-old Viktor is TONS of fun to write and I love him so much. I hope you all do, too.  
>   
> This is, of course, a side story for [Never Look Away,](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8997835/chapters/20547385) the companion novel with 100% more Viktor PoV/backstory, and features some OCs that were created to that end but don't get much screen time. Er, well, most of them. _The Boy_ may or may not play a larger role, but more than that, I can't say... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
>   
>  Enjoy and Happy Valentine's Day! <3 <3 <3  
>   
> Now with an illustration by ME, as seen on my tumblr [[here.](http://gabapple.tumblr.com/post/157263138101/vitya-and-the-crumbs-of-love-now-with-a)]

Viktor woke early, stretching arms over his head and legs under covers, fingers laced together and toes _en pointe_ until he couldn’t resist a yawn and broke his form. Shaking the sleepiness, the fifteen year-old rolled onto his side and peeked over the cover of his pillow to his roommate, Feliks, who was still a sleeping stone across the room. _Good._

He sat up, shedding the layers of nesting blankets that he burrowed under every night, and gave his hair a customary fluffing. Both hands, fingers splayed, combing through from forehead and out to chase away the bed head. The long, silver locks were always a little wavy after being washed, especially when he only had time to half-dry them before crawling into bed. It’d been another late night with skating and scheming, but sacrifices had to be made for special occasions, and today was a very special day.

_Valentine’s Day._

Biting his lip, he continued his morning stretches while twisting back for his cell phone, unhooking it from the charger to check for messages. The letter he’d sent should have gotten there by now. That meant he _might_ be getting a text. Or a phone call.  Maybe even- _gasp_ -a date.

He’d never been on a date before. Never even had a Valentine. Was it possible?

Probably not. The boy he’d written to wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming about how he felt about that kind of thing. He probably wasn’t interested. He might have even been offended. They _did_ live in Russia, after all. But then, they _had_ exchanged contact information at the benefit, and he wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been the slightest possibility, right?

Viktor’s fingers trembled as he unlocked his phone and went through his messages. There was nothing from _The Boy_ , but it was still only five something in the morning. Too early. Silly to worry. It was Friday, and the day was still rich and open with possibility. Oh, and so much to do.

He dragged himself from bed and took extra care to get ready, silent as a little mouse. Not quite the sleepy bear that _The Boy_ had called him, but it made him smile all the same. _Mishka._

So what if it had been over a month since he’d heard from him? The thought of it still got him blushing. That was definitely flirting. Totally. It had to be. No one called Viktor Nikiforov ‘ _Mishka’_ unless they were being serious.

_Hee._

The shared bathroom vanity was empty this early in the morning, which was just fine with him. The fact that he wore a little bit of makeup was no surprise to anyone at the Vaganova Academy by this point, but it still made the other guys a little wary when it was for day-to-day instead of performance. It was easier for everyone if he just took care of it before anyone else got up. A touch of eyeshadow, the thinnest stroke of eyeliner and—oh, why not be indulgent and go for a wing today? –and his favorite mascara, _unforgettable_ Kiko waterproof in darkest black. Perfect. So perfect. Just the right amount of curl, long and dark.

He took a round brush, hair dryer, and hairspray to the illustrious mane, then finished getting dressed. If _The Boy_ called, he wanted to be ready.  Of course, a day of school, ballet practice, dance, and then skating would just ruin it all, but… but at least he had a good foundation! And that was what was important!

Besides, even if he never called, Viktor was determined to enjoy Valentine’s on his own. It was tradition. He armed himself with the softest of his turtleneck sweaters, the messy wool scarf, slinky black stretch pants, and bag of Secret Tricks before hurrying on his way.

Well, after leaving Feliks the first of the one hundred Valentines he intended to deliver; a blue paper rose and a white, heart-shaped card with the carefully hand-written ‘Happy Valentine’s!’ greeting in Viktor’s signature sparkly purple glitter gel pen. He’d gone through several over the past three days, but it was worth it. The two pieces were held together by a tiny stretch of gold ribbon. Feliks would probably just roll his eyes at it, but that was okay; so long as an effort was made, that was what mattered.

Russia in February was frigid. Viktor hustled between buildings, breath in frosty clouds that he pushed through with rosy cheeks and gasps. Even though he was out in the cold every day, it always managed to get through to his legs if he didn’t move quickly enough. It didn’t make sense to wear anything warmer if he was just going to get undressed for practice as soon as he got inside, anyway. _Brrr!_

His plan was to distribute them to everyone in his classes, with a few extras for random drop-offs throughout the day. Friend Valentines weren’t exactly as commonplace in a place like the Academy, where everyone was a rival, but Viktor didn’t care. Valentine’s had only come about when he’d started dancing. That was when the Soviet Union had fallen, when the world had shifted. His parents had taken to it right away, and he along with it. And why not?

The world was changing. It was full of hope. Beauty. Potential.

And so many of his classmates were miserable and bitter. They didn’t have to hate the holiday just because they didn’t have a sweetheart. He didn’t have one ( _yet!)_ either, but it did nothing to damper his cheerful demeanor. Nope. He passed out the roses, smiled, ignored the glares and passive aggressive comments, and laughed anytime things got awkward.

“No, sorry. I don’t have plans, but I’m hoping I’ll hear from _someone_ soon…”

He probably should have expected the handful of love confessions, but backpedaling at least served him well enough. _And_ gave him a chance to gush.

“Y-yeah, they’re… well, I met them at a New Year’s Sponsorship benefit last month. They said they might call, so I want to make sure I’m available.” Did that sound too desperate? Maybe. Viktor couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop the nervous giggling, either, which only got worse when the girls teased him for it.

And of course they noticed the pronoun game, which, while embarrassing, got them to back off.

“Good luck, Vitya~”

“He sounds really dreamy, ooOOo!”

Viktor covered his face. It was too much. He was supposed to be more careful than that! But at the same time, did it really hurt for them to know? It’s not like he was actually dating anyone. “H-he _IS!”_

“OH MY GOD.”

“That’s SO CUTE! Vityaaa!”

“What are you chickens clucking about?! Get back to your pirouettes!”

Viktor checked his phone throughout the day, but there were no new messages from the number he’d programmed in. _The Boy_ had maintained radio silence as feared. By the time he left the Academy to cross the canal and cut through the town to the Sports Champion Club, his hopes were starting to waver. Not that it mattered, really. So what if _The Boy_ didn’t text him? There were lots of cute boys in Russia… and elsewhere! He’d met lots of them at skating competitions. Internationally speaking, there were tons to choose from. A whole WORLD of choices.

But none of them had called him _Mishka._

He pushed through the heavy double doors into the facility and dragged himself to the rink, pouting. Yakov was there with the regulars as if it was just a normal day. And why wouldn’t it be? None of the skaters really had time for relationships. All they ever did was skate and compete, practice and tour.

Viktor sighed, lips pursing. Would they even care about the paper flowers, or would they just think that they were annoying? It was hard to tell with them sometimes. Coach might think it charming, but only because it was from Viktor, not because he actually wanted a Valentine. If he had, he would have done something with Lilia, not his students. Yet there he was, working.

It was so sad.

All of it was. Friday night, all of them beautiful creatures of talent and splendor and fame, and none of them out celebrating or enjoying it. It was stupid. Why shouldn’t they have lovers? Or failing that, why shouldn’t they celebrate as comrades? They could get something to eat, go drinking. Or… well, they’d probably all just want to skate anyway, but maybe they could watch a movie somewhere after.

Was that something people did?

“Vitya, are you planning to practice or just stand there?” Yakov barked, snapping him to attention.

Right. Practice. He discarded his coat and pulled his hair back into a ponytail, trading out boots for skates, then checked his phone again. Still nothing. He’d take it with him, even though that was against the rules. Just in case. At least skating always made him feel better.

Ready for skating, he went back to the rink, then hesitated. The tall windows were already dark with night; Valentine’s Day was fading quickly. He had to make a stand. He had to save it. Maybe no one else cared, but Viktor Nikiforov _did._

Glaring, determined, he yanked his hair free from its tie and marched back to his duffel, gathering the remainder of paper roses in his arms. He stomped to the ice, toed off the guards while bracing backward against the barrier.

“Vitya! What are you doing?! How many times have I told you NOT to do that?!”

“Sorry, Coach! I HAVE TO SAVE VALENTINE’S DAY!”

Off he went, carving the ice in a frenzy to deliver the valentines to his rink mates and all of the innocent bystanders that shared the space with them for the time slot. Those who didn’t know him uttered shocked thank yous, while his teammates were not at all surprised, and laughed, offering hugs or hair ruffles in reply. That is, except for Sasha.

Viktor saved him for last on purpose, skating around him to make sure that everyone _else_ had been taken care of, before approaching. Sasha was tall and lean, with features that Viktor pinned as distinctly _Nordic Warrior-Esque_ , though he couldn’t exactly explain why. He came to a slow stop, sizing up his senior, then sniffed. “Sasha.”

Sasha peered down at him as if he’d been waiting for the inevitable annoyance. “Viktor.”

Despite all of Viktor’s charms and effervescence, the two had never gotten along. He couldn’t quite explain that, either, but it ate at him every time they had to interact. There was some kind of disconnect between them, and the chasm of cold indifference only grew every time Viktor tried to change it. He tossed his hair back, setting his jaw. “Today is the day we should become friends, Sasha.”

Sasha blinked at him. Twice. “What?”

“Look. I don’t know what it is that you hate, but that’s okay. I think we should just forget whatever it is that we hate about one another, and just be friends. It’s Valentine’s Day. And I brought you a Valentine. A goodwill gesture. One of peace.” Viktor shifted the remaining roses into the crook of one arm and fished out one of the least crumpled, holding it out. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Sasha!”

More blinking. Sasha cocked his head to one side. “The hell are you even talking about?”

“Vitya! Stop disrupting practice! Clean up all of that mess!”

Viktor pulled his gaze away just long enough to look at the paper trail around the rink- he’d lost quite a few flowers in his wake, but that didn’t matter just then -and then looked back to Sasha, gaze cool. He wasn’t intimidated. Nope. So what if Sasha was twenty-something and way more experienced? Viktor was just as cool. “I think we should be friends. So just take the Valentine and we can let bygones be bygones.”

“Why do you think there’s even a problem?”

“Uh.”

“VITYA! I MEAN IT!”

Sasha shook his head. “Coach is going to take your head off if you don’t get moving.”

“Can’t you just take the Valentine, then?! It’s not that hard.”

“I’m trying to practice. What would I even do with it?”

Viktor opened his mouth to reply, but had no answer to that. Which ended up not being necessary, as Kolya, Yakov’s ‘Skating Brute’ came to the scene.

“Viktor, lifts.”

Pouting, Viktor looked over his shoulder, but gave in. “Aww, really?!” It was a tactic that Yakov resorted to only in dire circumstances, but Viktor knew as well as anyone that if he didn’t comply, someone could get hurt. He let Kolya heft him up, body tense where it needed to be for the proper lift, and let the former pair skater take him away.

He spent the rest of practice on the bench, sulking and staring at his silent phone.

Maybe Valentine’s Day was stupid. He’d gotten flowers at competitions, but never for romance. He got fan mail all the time, but never actual love letters from anyone that _knew_ him. Even that stupid boy didn’t seem to care, and the card he’d sent was really nice. How many people got hand-crafted Valentines these days? Maybe it’d been excessive.

Maybe it’d scared him off.

He was always rushing things. Being too bold and too impatient.

Viktor sighed, setting his phone aside and dropped his chin into his palms, elbows on his knees. What a wasted day… and he was so tired. He hoped Feliks was gone when he got back, maybe he could get to sleep early.

“So what was this really about?” Sasha peered down at him as he rubbed down his neck with a towel. “Some new campaign?”

Viktor shrugged. “I guess.”

“Didn’t realize you loved Valentine’s Day so much.”

“Yeah…”

Sasha sat on the other side of the phone with a grunt. “So why were you at practice instead of celebrating?”

Again, Viktor shrugged. Like he was going to admit it to _Sasha._ “Practice is important.”

“Uh huh. I’m surprised you don’t have a lover, with how much fan mail you get.”

“It’s not the same.” Viktor snuck his phone back to check it again, sighed, and set it back. Still nothing.

Sasha plucked it from the bench. “Expecting a call?”

“Hey!” Pause. “Maybe. What about it?”

“From this Nikodim Yermolai person?”

Viktor choked, then hissed. “ _Give it back.”_

“Contact information with no call history or texts. So this is who you’re bent out of shape about?”

“I—I sent him a letter, that’s all. I just wanted to make sure he got it.”

“Then why don’t you just call?”

Viktor reeled back, scrambling to stay on the bench. “I can’t do that!”

“Fine. I will.” Sasha hit the call button.

“No! No no no no no! Sasha!” But it was too late. Viktor could already hear the ringing. He grasped Sasha’s arm, horror leaving him with equal parts excited and mortified.

“Yeah. This is one of Viktor Nikiforov’s rinkmates. Is this Nikodim? Good. I just wanted to confirm receipt of the letter he sent.”

Viktor leaned closer. He could just barely hear the other voice on the line, deep and confused, but just like he remembered. _Gulp._

“Oh? Good. Glad to hear. Ah, that would explain it. I’m calling from Viktor’s phone now, so you’ll have his number again. Thanks. Goodbye.” Sasha hung up and dropped the phone into Viktor’s scrambling hands. “There. Problem solved.”

“Sasha!” Viktor squeaked. “You _can’t do that!”_

“And _you_ can’t just assume I hate you, brat.”

Clutching the cell to his chest, Viktor whined, voice getting higher and higher. “Well if I didn’t think so before, I do now!”

“Uh huh.” He stood and ruffled Viktor’s hair, which had become a wind-swept mess from the earlier skate. “Don’t cross me again, Viktor.”

“Wait, so do you hate me or not?!”

Sasha shrugged, smiled, and walked away. “Happy Valentine’s~”

“Sashaaaa!”

“VITYA!” Yakov, now free of his other students, finally had time to deal with his problem child. “We need to talk.”

\--

Two hours and a lot of lame clean-up skating later, Viktor crawled back into bed in his empty dorm room, hair up, scrubs on, exhausted. Yakov had accepted his Valentine’s Day offering, but only after a lengthy lecture and several apologies. Even then, he had to promise that he would never do anything like that again.  Miserable…

A post-it note was waiting for him on his bedside table from Feliks: Out late, w/ gf. Thnx for the rose. Happy vday, V!!!

Viktor smiled at that, touching it with two fingers before pulling it off and tucking it away in his journal to preserve it for all time. That was nice.

He sat, legs criss-cross, and stretched arms high above his head, leaned side to side, and worked out the knots in his muscles from the day. Saturday was always tough at the Academy. Half was rigorous practice for the upcoming performances, the rest he’d spend at the rink. Just thinking about it made him want to crawl back to the shower for more heat therapy, but sleep was more important.

Dance was life, on or off the ice. That was all there was to it.

Viktor covered a yawn, but stopped halfway when his phone vibrated.

New message.

He picked it up, nervously checking the screen. But there it was, from _The Boy…_ Niko.

 

Nikodim Yermolai:  
[Hey thanks for the card. You’re the skater, right? The guy with the long hair?]

 

Viktor read the message five times over, then five more times, reaching behind himself to drag his pillow into his lap to hug. Then to squeal into.

 _The Boy_ remembered him.

Knew who he was.

Had texted him.

 _On_ \- he checked the time - _Valentine’s Day, no less!_

Surely, life couldn’t get any better than that.

Though, he needed to reply. What should he say? It was his chance to make a good impression, to really seal the deal, to bring down the big elk, or whatever it was that Yakov had said. If Viktor wanted to make _The Boy_ his, he would have to play it cool and do this the right way.

He debated for several long seconds, then sent the following:

 

V.Nikiforov:  
[Yep that’s me!]  
[Viktor!112]  
[Not with the numbers after]  
[Just Viktor.]  
[hey did you know that if we got married your name could be Niko Nikiforov lol]  
[niko niki]  
[that won’t happen bc it’s illegal but it’s funny :)]  
[anyway HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!]  
[i have to sleep now bc early practice tomorrow. goodnight1! Thanks for texting!]  
[<3]

 

Viktor stared down at his phone and scratched the side of his neck. He’d sent all of that in the space of forty-five seconds.

Wow?

He covered half of his face with a hand, reread what he’d sent, then flopped over backward onto the bed to stare at the ceiling.

_Bzzz._

Viktor picked up his phone. Just how bad would it be…?

 

Nikodim Yermolai:  
[k goodnight]

 

_Oh!_

Viktor held his phone to his chest with one hand and reached over to turn off his lamp with the other. The first storm had been weathered. They had survived. _He_ had survived.

He sighed with relief and smiled, rolling and burrowing until he could get underneath all of his covers, safely snuggled and warm.

Then, once content and comfy, phone cuddled close, he hummed. “Happy Valentine’s Day, me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I took out the shipping notes since it was so one-sided and pre-ship, anyway... let me know if that was incorrect. I'm still trying to figure out how to tag things effectively...


End file.
